Germans love the French for their food, fashion, and culture. But, as Derek Scally reports from Berlin, they also see French self-confidence as arrogance
Sebastien and Hans are putting on a good show of Franco-German harmony in their Berlin apartment for the visiting journalist.
"Yes, we get on very well together," says Sebastien Richon, a 26-year-old student and part-time drag queen from Bordeaux. Hans Selge, his 25-year-old room-mate and a native Berliner, agrees heartily.
But as soon as breakfast begins, the cracks begin to show. Sebastien reaches for a pain-au-chocolat and Hans for a bread-roll, their unconscious choice already setting the two room-mates apart. Before the coffee has even been poured, Sebastien makes the fatal mistake of mentioning the war and soon the Frenchman and the German are after each other like chat and hund.
"I can't stand the way the French pretend they won World War II," snaps Hans.
"Just because Germans are good at starting wars and finishing off Jews . . .," retorts Sebastien indelicately.
The modern Franco-German relationship, 40 years old on Wednesday, is every bit as fiery as the one in Hans and Sebastien's apartment.
Like a long-term marriage it has experienced its ups and downs; recently it has been more of the latter as the lukewarm chemistry of Jacques Chirac and Gerhard Schröder proved a poor substitute for the real rapport between François Mitterrand and Helmut Kohl.
But, as any marriage counsellor will tell you, the key to rescuing a foundering marriage is to want to save it. That's what the French and German leaders hope to do next week when they mark the signing of the Elysée Treaty by signing a declaration of their own, presenting a joint vision of the future of Europe. The Franco-German axis, described by many as the motor of European integration, is back from the workshop after a lengthy tune-up and is now revving back into action.
Already the 40th anniversary of the Elysée Treaty has been a huge media event in Germany. Newspapers have devoted hundreds of column inches to Franco-German relations in reports like "France: Our Pretty Neighbour" and "The Day Charles de Gaulle kissed Konrad Adenauer".
Germany's honeymoon with the French began in 1685 when King Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia welcomed over 20,000 Huguenots fleeing persecution.
Just two years later, the Huguenots made up nearly one fifth of the population of Berlin and some parts of the city seemed more French than German.
The College Français in Berlin, founded by the Huguenots in 1687, is still thriving, proof that, over three hundred years later, Germany remains a magnet for the French.
The love-hate relationship between the two countries has taken many forms over the centuries. These days it seems to hinge on one crucial cultural difference.
"Germans love the French, their great country, good food, culture, fashion and after a while we just can't stand it anymore," says Berliner Hans Selge. "We are envious of everything France has in its history and traditions because in Germany, every 50 years, history has to be rewritten."
For some Germans, French self-confidence and national pride tread a fine line and often tip over into the cliché of French arrogance.
"France has lost influence as a world power and French has lost its influence as a language, yet the French always make more of themselves than is actually there," said Mikolaj Ciechanowicz, a 25-year-old Berlin student and self-professed Francophile who has lived in Paris. On the one hand, Germans view French national pride and self-confidence as preening and arrogant, he says, while on the other hand, Germans are simply jealous. An over-stimulated Frenchman wouldn't think twice of shouting "Vive la France!" but a German could never say "I am proud to be German".
This guilt causes an imbalance in the Franco-German axis and affects how the French see their neighbours, says Sebastien Richon.
"I think they are masochists about their guilt. Young Germans are not responsible for their history any more than I am responsible for Napoleon's crimes," he says.
"It annoys me how much guilt they carry around with them every day and the way it affects how the French see Germany: from World War II to Helmut Kohl and back again."
He says that being French in Berlin is "the best calling card you could ask for". He has never encountered prejudice whereas at home in France he often has to defend Germany from tired, well-worn prejudices of "sauerkraut fascism" and the "danger of a strong Germany".
Not all Germans will be celebrating the 40th anniversary of the Élysée Treaty.
"The Franco-German axis is a political invention," said Martin Ryser, a German biotechnologist with a French wife. While some politicians say the finest moment of the Franco-German relationship was the creation of the euro in 1992, Martin says the peak came a decade earlier.
"France and Germany have never been closer than the semi-final of the 1982 World Cup, one of the best football matches in history," he said.
In the spirit of Franco-German harmony, he makes a belated admission: "And you know what? France deserved to win."